Eternal ray of Hope
by Miss P
Summary: Visions of a woman instead of the darkness Mencheres saw, leads him to believe that maybe Patra has finally forgiven him. Is he wrong? And what will the consequences of his actions be? Mencheres/Patra and a little Kira at the end
1. Chapter 1

**Eternal ray of Hope  
**_  
__By Miss P_

_Summary: Visions of a woman instead of the darkness Mencheres saw, leads him to believe that maybe Patra has finally forgiven him.  
Is he wrong? And what will the consequences of his actions be?_ _Mencheres/Patra (and a little Kira at the end)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters_

_A/N: This story starts out after Mencheres summoned the wraiths, but I've changed the story from there,  
making the road that will eventually lead him to Kira a little more twisted and painful. _

XxxxX

**Prologue**

Cat was staring at the wraiths in front of them, listening with grim satisfaction as Patra was screaming for help as they kept on torturing her. She was so focused on the scene that she didn't pay any attention to screams coming from outside of the building. It wasn't until Juan came rushing into the room saying something that was drowned by the horrifying screams from Patra that she realized something was wrong. She gave him a questioning look, and he repeated the words.

"There is something wrong with Mencheres," Juan had to yell to be heard. "He is… I don't know, he just collapsed and he's screaming," Juan threw a look at Patra and then back at Cat. "In fact it looks like he's in just as much pain as she is."

Bones's eyes had widened as he listened. "Charles, go."

Spade was gone even before Bones had finished speaking, Ian and Juan following him. When they stepped out of the building, the screams were the first thing they heard, and seconds later they found Mencheres collapsed on the ground, thrashing and screaming as blood ran from his eyes and mouth.

Spade and Ian was by his side in a blur of motions. "Can you hear me?" Spade demanded. "Mencheres?"

It didn't seem like the master vampire was even aware of Spade shaking him, and it was then Spade understood. The same mindless panic he'd seen in Patra's eyes was also in Mencheres's, and the pain seemed to be just as awful. "She's doing this, I don't know how but it has to be stopped."

"Send them away," Ian added, grabbing Mencheres and shaking him violently. "You have to send the wraiths away or they will kill you too. Do you hear me?" he shouted.

"Ian stop, you're making it worse if you shake him like that," Spade snapped. "Inform Crispin, go!" He almost shoved Ian aside.

Minutes that seemed to go on forever went by, but suddenly Mencheres's screams slowly turned into hoarse moans and his body went still.

"Crispin is holding the wraiths back," Spade said to no one in particular. Then he turned to Mencheres. "Can you hear me now?"

"Yes," he breathed. "I can hear you."

"You have to send the wraiths away. I don't know for how long Crispin can restrain them, they are going to kill you."

"Patra must have done something for it to be used against me," he whispered.

Spade nodded grimly. "What do you need to do?"

"Give me a knife, not silver." Mencheres said. Spade tried to ignore how weak his sires voice was and grabbed one of his knives and held it out for Mencheres to take. But Mencheres could barely move his arm, and as the knife fell from his hand Spade wanted to scream. How would Mencheres find the strength to perform yet another round of black magic when he could barely move?

Mencheres seemed to know what he was thinking. "Just give me a few minutes."

"We don't have that much time, tell me what to do."

"Stab me in the heart and then twist the knife."

For a few seconds, Spade hesitated, but then he grabbed the knife and shoved it into Mencheres's heart with perfect accuracy. Then he twisted the metal, watching as Mencheres seemed to be struggling to overcome the pain that Spade felt coursing through him as well, though in much smaller dosages. There were no shields around Mencheres now, and as he moved to sit up, Spade wished there had been.

Agony shot though his entire body but Mencheres managed to keep moving. Trying to ignore the pain, he used all of his remaining strength to grab the knife and making a sharp twist once more. More blood flowed from the open wound, coating the ground red around him. Then he started to speak in a voice so raw that Spade began to worry.  
He didn't understand the language, but he was sure that whatever Mencheres was saying, it was needed to end the ritual and send the wraiths back without having them fulfilling their purpose. What if Mencheres was unable to do it?

Seeing his sire so weakened worried Spade. He knew that Mencheres was going through hell with that knife twisted in his heart, but it shouldn't have weakened him so much. Was it the wraiths? Could they still be affecting him even when withheld? Or was his condition just a lingering effect of what they'd had done to him before Crispin had stopped them?

Before Spade could dig deeper into his thoughts, something whooshed by him and then Ian came to a stop next to him. "Whatever Mencheres is doing," he threw a quick look at his sire, then back at Spade. "The wraiths aren't happy."

"What are you saying?"

"Crispin can't hold them, they're whipping around like crazy up there, can't you hear her scream?"

Spade hadn't paid any attention to the abandoned hotel, but when Ian pointed it out, he could hear Patra's screams starting up again.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled. "This is bad."

Ian snorted. "Tell me something I don't know."

Just as Ian said it, Mencheres let out a high roar. Spade and Ian stared at him in horror as his whole body had begun to shake again. His struggle to keep the sitting posture and to go on speaking the words that would end this torture was so clear that it made Spade wince with sympathy and dread. Even Ian seemed to be sharing his sires' pain as he kept on staring at the scene playing out in front of them.

The minutes that dragged by seemed to go on forever, but then suddenly everything went still. The screams from the hotel died down and Mencheres seemed to melt there he sat. The knife was still buried in his heart as he lay unconscious, small ripples of lingering pain still going through his body the only indicator of him still being alive.

Spade sat next to Mencheres, trying to listen for any signs of struggle coming from the hotel. If the wraiths were gone, it meant Patra was no longer distracted by them. Had Crispin killed her, or had she… Spade didn't want to see that thought through. Instead he turned his full attention to Mencheres, carefully sliding the knife out freeing him at last.

"If I never have to stab you like that again, it will be too soon," he muttered, shaking his head at how wrong everything had turned out. "I'm sorry."

"Do not apologize," Spade barely heard Mencheres's low whisper, but the faint words made him smile in relief.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I have been run over by a buss," Mencheres almost smiled at the choice of words. "Too bad Cat was not here to hear that modern analogy."

"Who said I wasn't?"

Spade's smile grew wider as he spotted Cat and Bones on their way up to them.

"Glad to hear you're alive Mencheres," she went on, and actually meant it.

"Patra?" Mencheres asked, moving to sit up. It surprised him to realize that after everything that had happened, she was still the one he thought of. Was she dead? Shouldn't he have somehow felt it if she was? But then again, he had been distracted, to say the least.

Bones shot him a pointed look, and Mencheres realized how he must have interpreted his question.

"Still alive. Bloody sod got away."

Mencheres couldn't stop the feeling of relief that filled him, but then he sighed as he realized the stupidity of the emotion. He met his co-ruler's eyes. "I did not plan for this to happen. I honestly had no idea of what she had planned."

Bones nodded. "I believe you, grandsire," he paused shaking his head. "But I can feel your relief. And it makes me want to shove that knife right back into your heart," he said not even trying to hide the annoyance in his voice.

Mencheres closed his eyes, taking a moment to pull himself together before once again meeting Bones's now cold gaze. "What I feel does not matter, as long as I do not act upon it. And I did not."

"Okay guys, now is not the right time to fight over this," Cat cut Bones off before he could say anything more. "Mencheres, I can't believe you'd still feel for that… bitch, but I guess even you can't be perfect. Bones, come on it's time to get the hell out of here."

"Cat is right," Spade agreed. "We should go."

"Alright, Kitten lets go. Charles, Ian." Bones and Cat started to leave, along with the rest of the team, not even bothering to check and see if Mencheres followed.

Spade lingered, giving the Egyptian vampire a look of empathy as he finally got back up on his feet. "You do realize that Patra's survival will only cause us more trouble."

"I do know that."

"She won't stop now; I believe this will only give her more reasons to plot against us. It's just a matter of time before she strikes again."

XxxxX

_To be continued _


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

It wasn't the first time she had called him, but Mencheres had always been locking every hint of emotions inside the walls of protection he wore around him. It was never easy, not when every phone call from her was teasing his already lonely heart. When her voice, as soft as silk caressing his skin made him feel so much inside.

And to make it even harder to understand, Mencheres had had visions that could not be of anyone else but his wife, no matter how confused it made him feel. He loved her, and those visions glimpsed of a happier future for him, with a woman he loved by his side. It was those visions that made the tiny ray of hope Mencheres had been keeping within him ever since she left him, come to life in new fresh ripples. What if the last couple of events had led her to think things through? Maybe the near death experience with the wraiths had finally made her realize that she couldn't go on the way she did.

Months had passed since that first phone call from Patra, and with every time she had been contacting him, she had made the smallest of suggestions, feeding that hope even more, even though the rational part of Mencheres knew the chances of her ever changing her ways for him, was not only slim, but nonexistent.

That's why the next words she spoke stunned him into silence.

"I have tried to kill you, and you have tried to kill me. None of our attempts has succeeded," Patra paused and it took a long time before she went on. "Mencheres, my husband, haven't you ever considered the possibility that there might be a reason for that?"

"I…" Mencheres didn't know what to say, and that didn't happen often. "I do not know what you are talking about?" He made it sound like a question, hoping she would specify.

She surprised him by laughing, but then just as fast her voice turned serious again. "If we were to try to see past this vendetta against each other, do you think there is a chance for us to live together again, like husband and wife?"

This time Mencheres was truly speechless. Emotions he hadn't felt in centuries came to life inside of him, warring against the more skeptical part of him. She couldn't be serious could she? But what if she was? Could this be the day he had been praying and hoping for, ever since she walked out on him hundreds of years ago. Mencheres didn't dare to feed that hope, because if this was another of her tricks, it would rip him apart inside.

But still, his heart was screaming at him to say something, anything that would make her realize that yes of course they could. He didn't want anything more badly.

"Are you still there?"

"Yes," he finally managed to say. "I am here."

"I am willing to give us a chance," Patra said before Mencheres had a chance to even think of a reply. "And I take your stunned silence as a yes from your side too."

"How could I trust you after everything you have done to me and my people?" he asked, letting the skepticism win over his emotionally overflowing heart.

"We would be good together," she said ignoring his question. "Imagine all the power we would have."

"Is that why you are doing this?" Mencheres asked.

"Yes but not only, can I ask you something?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Do you still love me?"

Once again, Mencheres seemed to have lost the ability to speak. But it wasn't that he didn't know the answer, he just wasn't sure he would be able to admit it out loud. He was all about control, and if he told Patra that he loved her, even now after nine hundred years of forced distance from her, he wasn't sure that he would be able to keep his shields from dropping.

"Just say it, my prince. Say you love me."

Mencheres couldn't stop a traitorous gasp from escaping his lips at hearing her nickname for him. He had almost forgotten how she had used to call him that, and hearing it again sent shivers all through his body.

"I can not."

"Why not, it is true isn't it?"

Mencheres didn't speak.

"You probably won't believe this, but I'm not lying when I say that I…" her voice trailed off as if she needed to a moment to work up the courage to say it. Mencheres felt like he was holding his breath, even though he wasn't breathing. She wasn't going to say what he thought she was, was she?

"I have been unfair," she began. "I was blinded by rage and grief after I found out that Intef was dead. I didn't want to listen to you when you tried to explain why you killed him, but I have always known that you did it to protect me," she stopped talking, waiting to see if Mencheres had anything to add, but he was still uncharacteristically quiet. "I loved you before that, and under all of this hate I do still feel that way for you."

If a vampire could pass out from sheer shock, Mencheres would be sprawled on the floor by now. But that was a luxury only the ones with pulses had to retreat to. Instead he could only stare at the wall in front of him as he clutched the phone so tightly he was almost breaking it.

"Are you even listening to me?" Patra sounded impatient now, and Mencheres mentally kicked himself for being so slow. What was wrong with him?

"I did hear you. I was just thinking about what this would mean for… for us."

"It means I want to see you, now. We have a lot to catch up on haven't we?" There was a purr to her voice that hadn't been there before. Mencheres couldn't think rationally anymore, even though he was sure there was something he needed to think of. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so distracted, so unfocused. It scared him to realize that she was still able to make him let go of everything. Even after all these years.

"Where are you?"

"Within reach. I can be with you in less than an hour if you want me to."

Mencheres could barely hold back an instant yes, but he managed to stop himself just before the words left his mouth. "How will I know this is not a trap?"

"I would ask you to come to me if it was," she answered simply. "I'm the one risking my life to come to you."

That was actually a good point. "And how can you trust I will not call for backup and have an ambush ready when you come here?"

She laughed softly. "Because if I'm dead, I wouldn't be a very good lover then would I?"

She hung up before Mencheres could even wrap his mind around what she had just implied with those words. Then he stiffened in shock. Patra was coming. What was he going to do?

Should he call Bones? Should he make a run for it, or should he… stay? Precious minutes ticked by all too fast, and all Mencheres could do was to stand there frozen in the same spot with the phone still clutched in his hand. When it suddenly rung again, he almost jumped.

"Grandsire?" he heard Bones's voice on the line.

"Hello Bones," he finally said, realizing he had just answered the phone without speaking a word.

"Is everything all right? You seem a bit, distracted."

"Everything is all right, I was just thinking of something. Why did you call me?"

"I have reason to believe that Patra's back in town, I thought you'd want to know. She may be up to something."

"That is good to know, thank you Bones."

There was a silence. "Are you sure you are okay?" Bones asked again.

Mencheres froze. Had he said something wrong? He had perfect control over his voice, he knew that. Could Bones have picked up on his awkwardness somehow? Maybe he had waited a few seconds too long before replying?

"Yes."

When he hung up he wasn't sure his co-ruler had believed him, but that was a thing he would have to think about later.

XxxxX

**_TBC_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

Mencheres had gone through thousands of ways to handle the situation with Patra, but hadn't come up with anything useful. He would see her and find out what this was really about, after that he would have to decide what to do.

He felt her long before she knocked on his door. Hoping that he was prepared for whatever would come, Mencheres went toward the front door to open, his mental shield tightly wrapped around him.

The door swung opened, and he was greeted with an almost shy smile. That alone was enough to stun Mencheres. It actually looked like Patra had been afraid to come. Not that it was strange for her or anyone he considered an enemy to come to his house, to look that way, but it was not what he had expected from his long lost wife.

"Patra," he said. "Come in."

She followed him inside and waited while he shut the door. "Why are you really here?" he asked, trying to look anywhere but at her.

She sighed, realizing what he was doing. She closed the distanced between them, looking up at him. "You already know why I'm here," she almost whispered, reaching out to trace her fingers across his chest.

"Why now?" Mencheres forced himself to ask, his control slipping as the next words left his mouth. "You have not shown any interest in me for over nine hundred years."

"I told you I was wrong to be so mad at you," she said. That didn't really answer his question, but as her fingers started to work the buttons of his shirt he wasn't so sure it really mattered what her intentions were. Not if it meant he could have her tonight.

A sharp tearing sound snapped Mencheres out of his thought, and he realized the shirt he had been wearing seconds ago was now shriveled on the floor. So Patra really didn't want to wait, he thought irrelevantly.

Then he shoved her away, taking a step back himself. "Wait," he said, stunned that his voice had come out a breathless hiss.

"Damn it Mencheres, this is not a trap," Patra snapped. "As you can see I came alone. So what are you waiting for?"

Mencheres stared at her. "Did you just come here to…"

He was cut off. "Must we always fight?"

"No, we…" He didn't know what to say. "What am I supposed to believe?" He said at last, the impassive look once again back on his face. "Recently you unleashed the content of the graves at me and my people, and later you tried to have me killed by wraiths, you have to understand that I am confused."

Something dark flashed in her eyes, but it was gone so fast Mencheres wasn't sure it had been there at all. "The wraiths _you_ sent after _me_. I was only trying to defend myself."

"I never wanted to kill you Patra, but I had no choice but to try."

"What can I do to prove to you that I am serious about us?"

"I do not know," Mencheres said honestly.

"Let's start with this then," she whispered, and before Mencheres knew it, Patra had flung herself at him, legs wrapped around his waist as she clung to him. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her to hold her to him.

The impact of her body hitting his had sent Mencheres stumbling back until his back had hit the wall so hard the wood cracked behind them. But Mencheres couldn't care less about the walls. Having Patra so close made him lose all track of time. It felt like no time had passed since they had last been together like this, but at the same time it felt like an eternity.

He didn't realize until this moment how much he had missed it. Sure he had been aching for her every day since she had left, but he had learnt to live with the loss. He had gotten used to it even. The emptiness had become his life. Having it all back made him feel so much at the same time that words couldn't even begin to describe it.

He couldn't think, he was blinded by her, just as he'd been from the start. Whatever her intentions were, at the moment he couldn't care less. Right now all he could think of was the burning need that was growing stronger within him with every passing second.

With a flicker of his mind, Patra's dress fell off of her, leaving her in her underwear. She grinned. "I like those little tricks of yours," she whispered into his ear.

"They are good to have in certain situations," Mencheres agreed.

She kissed him then, first slow and deliberate, then she felt him respond with a hunger she hadn't been prepared for. He pressed her closer to him, crushing her to his body as his tongue sought hers in a passionate almost desperate dance.

Mencheres felt like he was about to explode. His body was on fire, and with every deepening kiss the sensation spread and grew more intense. A small part of him couldn't help but be amazed at how he could be responding so strongly, she hadn't even done anything more than simply kissed him… yet.

Just as abruptly as she had started, she stopped, ripping herself free from Mencheres's arms to stand before him.

"Patra," he breathed. "What…"

She grinned. "You want me?"

"Don't play with me," Mencheres growled.

She grinned, taking a step further back. "Then tell me one thing," she demanded. "Did you tell anyone I was coming? And I want the truth."

"No I did not tell anyone."

"Drop your shields."

"What?"

"Do it."

Mencheres grabbed Patra and flung her toward the same wall he had just been leaning against.

"You can not do this to me," he growled. He needed her now, more than he had ever needed anyone before. She was so close, her scent so strong and enticing. Mencheres couldn't wait to take her, to feel himself inside of her. He had waited so long, burning with unspent lust, and being so close to the object of his desire made Mencheres lose all control.

"Do what?" she snarled. "You're the one refusing me."

Frustration made Mencheres let go of the walls around him at once, letting all of his held back lust wash over her. He wasn't lying to her, so if she thought that she could pick something up from him, she was wrong. He stared at her, not holding back anything. She met his eyes and none of them spoke for a long time. Mencheres almost trembled at the intensity of her gaze and finally she smiled, seemingly satisfied with what she had felt from him. "See that wasn't so hard to do, why did…"

He cut her off with his mouth against hers in passionate demanding kiss.

"Do you have a bedroom anywhere in this house?" Patra asked several minutes later. Just the simple sentence spoken into Mencheres's ear sent ripples of pleasure through him, and he actually found it hard to reply in an even voice.

"Several bedrooms actually, which one would you prefer?" It wasn't more than a husky whisper.

"Yours."

"So be it."

XxxxX

**_T b c_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**

Mencheres awoke the next morning with an odd and unfamiliar sense of happiness coursing through him. He was confused at first, but one glimpse to his right was enough to know the reason for that strange feeling. His wife was sleeping next to him in the bed, her long dark hair spread all around her, and one arm draped across his belly.

So it hadn't been a dream after all. Patra was really there. He wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing now when he could think clearly again. But knowing his wife, it was bound to be something bad, deadly even.

Or was it?

What about the vision he'd had again right before falling asleep. He had seen himself with a woman, and he had felt so comfortable and loved. He had never seen the woman's face but it had to have been Patra, wouldn't it? Mencheres couldn't picture himself with any other woman, especially not when it involved his happiness. He loved her, he could not be happy with anyone else.

So the woman in the vision must have been Patra. Had she truly changed, decided to forgive him? Did she want him, the way he wanted her? Loved him even? His visions of the future had never been wrong before, so why would he doubt them now when he wanted them to be true?

Mencheres sighed. Who said life, or afterlife was supposed to be easy.

A loud knock on the door made its way into the bedroom, and it wasn't until then that Mencheres felt him. He shot up from the bed, waking Patra in his rush.

"What's wrong?" she asked, scanning the room as if expecting to see someone standing there.

"Bones is at the door." Mencheres said. How could he have missed a vampire sneaking up to his house? Had he been _that_ lost in thoughts?

"I suppose you don't want him to see me here," Patra said, searching the room for her clothes, but realized that the dress had been left in the hallway along with Mencheres's shirt.

"Would you mind fetching my dress?" she urged.

"Your… uh of course." This was also one handy detail to do with the power of his mind. No need to go down the stairs when he could make the dress float the way up to her.

"Go meet him; I'll be gone before you even reach the first floor."

He didn't doubt that, and with a grim look on his face he walked downstairs', deliberately slow. He was stalling; there was no denying that. To Mencheres's surprise Bones had already entered and was standing in the middle of the room, holding Mencheres's torn shirt and a look of unmistakable amusement on his face.

"You forgot to hide the evidence grandsire," Bones said as a greeting. "I wouldn't think anything was up if I hadn't seen the dress fly on its own will up the stairs. Are you finally cheating on that deceitful wife of yours? Oh don't give me that look; I'm not going to hold it against you." Bones actually grinned then. "You deserve to get some after all those years, so who are you hiding up there?"

"No one," Mencheres answered honestly. Patra was long gone, he hoped.

"Come on grandsire, I can smell it on you."

Mencheres showed no hint of awkwardness, but on the inside he was cringing. He also knew there was just a matter of time before Bones would recognize the scent as Patras.

"What brings you here so early in the morning?" he asked, trying to lead Bones into a more comfortable topic.

Bones snorted, but smiled. "Early? Sun's been up for a long time."

Mencheres realized his mistake, but now it was too late to take it back, or smooth it over. It couldn't be more obvious that he had just gotten out of bed. If the disheveled hair and still unbuttoned shirt wasn't proof enough, the war of thoughts and feelings inside his head was. He couldn't seem to be doing anything right this morning, and he was sure his co-ruler had picked up on that even before he had stepped into the house.

"I just came to see if you'd heard anything about," Bones's voice trailed off and he literally sniffed the air. Mencheres closed his eyes, waiting for Bones's anger. But all he felt from him was… disbelief. He opened his eyes to stare at him. "Are you not going to judge me?" he asked surprised.

"So it is true then, I didn't want to believe it. I thought there might be another more reasonable explanation to why you reek of _HER_," he almost shouted the last word, and this time Mencheres did flinch.

"You do not understand," he said.

Bones snorted angrily. "Sleeping with the enemy now are you, grandsire?"

"It is not what it seems. Patra was…" Mencheres tried to defend himself, but then he stopped, and went for something different. "Patra is mine, there is no ones business what I decide to do or not do with my wife."

"It is _my_ business when _my_ people are suffering the consequences of your stupidity," Bones snapped. "Where is she?"

"She left." Mencheres said calmly. Sure, he understood why Bones was mad, but he didn't have all the facts. He hadn't seen what Mencheres had seen in the vision.

"How convenient."

"I had a vision, me and a woman and there was happiness. At the same time Patra rings me and says she wants to give us another chance, that she still loves me, I do not have to tell you any of this, and I do not have to defend my actions, but because I care for you I want you to understand that I would never do anything that would inflict danger to our line."

Bones just stared at him for a long time. "Do you believe in that yourself?" he finally asked, his tone had went from menacing to just cold.

"I am not sure of what to believe, yet."

Bones snorted. "That's just a shitload of lies and you have to know that, Patra doesn't love you, she wants you dead. Bloody hell, grandsire; have you forgotten about the bloody zombies? And what about the wraiths?" he snapped.

There went the last of the remaining happiness. Mencheres sighed miserably. He didn't want to argue with Bones, because at this point he wasn't sure of what to believe anymore. Was it just his empty heart grasping at any straws of hope, or was Patra really telling the truth?

No. Mencheres thought. The vision proved it. It was true. It had to be. "My visions are never wrong."

"Well they must be this time, because that woman could never love you."

The flicker of pain on Mencheres's normal blank face made Bones sigh. "She doesn't have it in her. Don't take it personally."

Mencheres didn't speak.

"In your vision, did you see her face?" Bones asked, ignoring the wave of pain coming from Mencheres as his shields started to crumble.

"No," Mencheres confessed. "But it had to be Patra. I would never love any other woman," his normal smooth tone had turned raw with suppressed emotions. And when Bones replied, all the earlier anger had vanished.

"I won't pretend to know how hard this must be for you. But I'm asking you, please, think of our people. Don't put them in danger. You of all people should know what Patra is capable of."

"I would never do that. But I can not ignore this until I know what it means."

"I can't stop you," Bones said. "No matter how badly I'd want to. But I'll be watching her, and you, and if she as much as think one foul thought about any of my people, I'll kill her."

Mencheres nodded grimly. "I know."

"I wish you were right grandsire, but this time I know you're not. And you are only going to get hurt, or killed if you keep seeing her. But that's your choice, not mine." And with those final words, Bones left.

XxxxX

**_T b c_**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five**

As the months passed Mencheres slowly started to lower his shields around Patra until soon they were nothing more than a memory to him. A small part of him kept on nagging at him, telling him he was making a huge mistake, but the rest of him couldn't help but trust his wife enough to let himself love her the way he had always dreamed of doing.

She was back in his life, and nothing, _no one_ could make him change that fact, because it meant too much to him be able to feel again. He wasn't hollow anymore; Patra had made him happy, given him a reason to live again when his life had become so meaningless. Being as old as Mencheres was, he thought it was only fair to not act based on cold and unfeeling logic for just one single time. Hadn't he at least earned some chance of happiness after so many years of pain?

They had spent three more months together at one of his places, and though he now had expected her to be good to him, it still surprised him to see all of her closest vampires allies and property treat him as if he was their master as well. It felt almost strange, as if no time had passed at all since those days when they'd first been together.

"What are you thinking of, my prince?"

Her voice snapped Mencheres out of his thoughts, and he smiled up at his wife.

"Come, sit with me," he said. Patra joined him on the sofa, waiting in silence for Mencheres to speak. But when he didn't, she frowned. "Is something wrong?" she asked, reaching out to trace her fingers along his arm.

"Nothing is wrong," Mencheres said at last. "I was just contemplating how much has changed in my life during these last couples of months. It seems fate wanted something different for me now."

Patra gave him a small smile. "Is that a good thing?"

"Of course, fate brought you back to me."

"I wouldn't give fate all the credit for that."

Mencheres smiled. "My beautiful charming wife." _I love you_, he wanted to add, but kept his mouth shut. He was not ready to say it, not yet.

"What made you change your mind?" he asked instead. The moment he said it though, he regretted the words.

She smiled, and for a brief fleeing second there was something other than warmth in it. But the flicker of scorn was gone so fast Mencheres wasn't sure whether it had been there or if he had simply imagined it. He couldn't feel anything other than contentment from her.

"Let's not talk about that. I don't want to be reminded of my mistakes," she said as she shifted her body so she was sitting straddled in his lap instead of next to him. She put her hands on his chest, leaning in to kiss him.

Mencheres wanted nothing more than to surrender to his needs, but there was something he had to know first, he needed to hear her say it. "Will it last?" he managed to ask in between her kissing him.

Patra pulled back, staring at him with an almost annoyed expression on her face. "Will _what_ last?"

"You and me."

She snorted. "What do you think?" Then she seemed to regret her words, or maybe she regretted the unnecessarily harsh way her voice had delivered them. "Of course my love, this is nothing like the last time." She gave him a quick kiss. "I will stand by your side until your final death. You have my word Mencheres."

He couldn't help but consider the meaning behind her somewhat odd choice of words. And there was a small ruthless part of him that couldn't help but wonder if that death would in her preference come sooner rather than later. But he pushed those thoughts aside. His visions had already shown him the future. And the fact that he _had_ a future, proved that Patra wasn't lying to him. He relaxed then, satisfied with what she had told him.

"And I will stand by your side, for all eternity."

She smiled. "Now I don't want to talk anymore."

Mencheres wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his body. He didn't want to talk either. Not anymore. When there were so many more pleasurable things he wanted to do to her, talking suddenly seemed overrated. Mencheres pushed the vague feeling of unease away and focused on his wife instead. There was nothing he needed to worry about. Whatever insecurity he sometimes felt with her, it was probably nothing more than lingering slivers of the nightmare she had put him and his people through before. After everything that had happened in the past, it wasn't strange that he couldn't stop the discomfort from getting a hold of him sometimes. He only hoped it would pass with time. He wanted to trust Patra without ever having to doubt whether he was making a mistake or not by doing so. He wanted her to love him, as much as he cared for her. He wanted what he had always dreamt of but never dared to hope would come true.

And maybe this was a start. Mencheres knew, and accepted that it would take time for both of them to get used to a life together, but time was on their side.

XxxxX

Mencheres watched her as she slept, her hair pooling around her head like black silk caressing her golden skin. Even though she had her back turned to him, he couldn't help but admire her. She was so beautiful. Sure he had seen many good-looking women during his long life, but there was something special about Patra. And the fact that she was his, still amazed Mencheres.

He gently reached out to touch her, letting his fingers travel lightly across her skin following the contours of her shoulder down to her back.

He didn't know how they had ended up in their bed, but if a sudden memory loss was a result of losing himself in passion he was gladly welcoming it.

Patra stirred in her sleep, and he forced himself to remove his hand from her skin. He didn't want to wake her up; she had barely just fallen asleep. And somehow it seemed she didn't want him to touch her. Mencheres didn't want to admit it even to himself, but it was bothering him, maybe a little too much. There could be a logical explanation, of course, but he couldn't stop himself from pondering it. Maybe she was just tired, that could have been why she'd pulled away when he had wanted to hold her. If it had been simply one time, he would have accepted that, but when he thought of it, he realized this time wasn't the only time she had seemed uninterested in any kind of affection, accept from when they were having sex.

Maybe it just wasn't her style. He tried telling himself. Maybe she simply wasn't interested in cuddling. Mencheres wasn't convinced, but he didn't want to think anymore about it either.  
As he watched her, he couldn't resist reaching for her one more time. Her skin felt warm under his hand, and even though he knew it was the same temperature as his, he savored the illusion, relishing in the sensation that spread through him in fresh strong waves. Right then Mencheres didn't care what she preferred; he needed to feel her close to him. He needed to hold her and feel like she was really there. He still hadn't gotten used to the idea of having her back, and sometimes it felt like she was slipping away whenever he wasn't touching her.

Careful to not wake her, Mencheres slid his arm around her, shifting so his body was pressed against hers, his arm holding her to him in a firm, but not too tight embrace. Holding Patra felt so good, so right. At the moment Mencheres couldn't understand how he could have survived so many years without it. He hadn't realized until lately how broken he had truly been without her. But having her now also made him realize he could never live with losing her again. It scared him to know how deeply he had let himself fall for her. But it didn't surprise him. No matter what it did to him he had never been able to resist Patra, not back then and certainly not now. He was in too deep to ever get out, not that he had any intentions of ever doing so.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair. "So much."

XxxxX

**_T B C_**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six**

Mencheres awoke alone. A couple of months ago it wouldn't have been anything unusual about that, but now it was. He sat up in bed, looking around. Patra's scent was still lingering in the room and he could smell her somewhere outside of the room. He could even smell her on him. It made him smile, despite the growing sense of unease that had started to build inside of him again.

Mencheres stood, putting on pants and running a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. He tucked a few strands behind his ear, and then headed for the door. If something had happened that he had somehow been missing while he'd been asleep, he was not going to waste any time tending to his looks.

As he opened the door though, he found Patra standing there. There was a look on her face he hadn't expected to see, but then she smiled and Mencheres started to think he might have imagined the glimpse of repugnance in her eyes.

"Did you miss me, my prince," she asked. Mencheres relaxed. Nothing was wrong.

"I have a surprise for you," Patra smiled, putting her hands on Mencheres's chest forcing him to move backward into the room. She kicked the door shut, pushing him back further more until he fell onto the bed.

"What do you have in mind my love?"

Patra just smiled, a sweet innocent smile. Then she climbed on top of Mencheres, straddling him while leaning down to kiss him.

"I love you," he said spontaneously, and it felt so good to say it out loud he regretted not having said it sooner. He knew Patra had felt it from him, but he had never dared to say it.

She smiled. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

Another smile, this time there was a hint of cold amusement in it. But before Mencheres could start to wonder about it, Patra traced her fingers down his chest, letting her nails do small circles as they followed the contours of his hard muscled flesh. Mencheres groaned with pleasure, letting his eyes drift close as he focused on that growing heat that had started to spread inside of him.

With his eyes closed, Mencheres never saw Patra reaching behind her back, and when he felt the sharp unexpected pain in his chest he couldn't stop a loud cry from escaping his lips. His eyes shot open, only to reveal a knife buried deep into his heart. Patra smiled evilly and when his shocked eyes met hers there was nothing in them but cold satisfaction and glowing green.

"Patra, what…" he whispered, not yet understanding.

"You are a fool Mencheres," she said coldly.

Through the throbbing in his heart, another sort of pain filled him and he wanted to scream for a whole different reason. But he didn't _want_ to believe it. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could pass this of as some sort of nightmare that he would wake up from. Because it couldn't be real. Patra wouldn't be so cruel, would she?

Had all of their time together been nothing but an act? No. No it couldn't be. Mencheres refused to admit it. But he couldn't deny the searing pain from the silver pierced through his heart. That alone was evidence enough to destroy the last bits of denial he'd been so desperately clinging to.

"All this time, you were just pretending," he stated the obvious. "Why?" the single word only came out as a pained whisper. Mencheres had never felt so betrayed, so emotionally hurt. It was tearing him apart inside, threatening to kill him more thoroughly than any knife ever could. But there was also a part of him that knew he shouldn't be surprised. Now he knew he had been wrong to trust her, but if death was the price he'd have to pay for a few months of bliss, maybe it had been worth it?

"Did you really think I loved you?" she said scornfully. "You were so easy to fool Mencheres. I had expected more resistance from you, but you made it almost too easy. Just some kissing and a few touches and I had you right where I wanted you," she paused to flicker the knife just so lightly, indicating that he was now _exactly_ where she wanted him to be. Mencheres froze, knowing that even the smallest of movement would kill him.

Patra grinned. "Aren't you going to beg?"

Mencheres didn't answer. Even if he had known what to say, there was no way he would have been able to speak. The knife hurt, but he was no stranger to that kind of pain. At the moment, it wasn't the knife that was shredding his heart; it was Patra's betrayal.

"I trusted you," he said at last. And he had. Stupid it may have been, but he had trusted her nonetheless. He had loved her, and worst of all, he had actually started to think that maybe, just maybe she shared those feelings. How devastatingly wrong he had been.

"And now you're paying for that mistake," she hissed. Then she laughed a cold heartbreaking laugh. "I could never love you, I want you dead, and now it looks like I'm finally going to get what I want," she smiled, fingering the top of the knife as if it was toy she wanted to play with.

"I wanted to wait longer for this," she explained casually. Then as she went on, her voice turned cold. "But one more day of you touching me and I would have staked myself instead," she threw him a disgusted look before she went on, choosing her words carefully to make sure they would inflict as much pain as they could. "The only thing that made me cope with you was the knowledge that I'd be free from you soon. And it was a good plan wasn't it? When nothing else worked I knew I would have to kill you myself. And that would only work if you thought I'd forgiven you," she paused to meet Mencheres's stunned gaze, then she laughed "Did you think I wanted you, that I liked sleeping with you," she scoffed. "I only did that because I had no other choice. I couldn't be happier now when it's finally over."

Mencheres closed his eyes, knowing that if he kept on staring at her, he wouldn't be able to stop the tears that were burning his eyes. Maybe he should welcome death, it was an option that suddenly felt too appealing. There would be no more pain, it would be a relief and it was so easy to surrender to it. Just one movement of his body and that knife would tear his heart into pieces.

"Look at me," she demanded. Too weary to care, he did as she wanted. A single tear rolled onto his cheek as Mencheres opened his eyes, leaving a soft pink trail as it rolled across his skin.

"My prince," Patra whispered with feigned sympathy, catching the tear with her thumb. "Did I break your heart?" Her hand lingered on his skin, and even now during the most painful circumstances the light touch sent shivers of pleasure through Mencheres.

Patra noticed and smiled wickedly at him. "You're pathetic."

Mencheres wanted nothing more than to slam his protective shields into place so she couldn't feel him, but he had lost so much blood, it was already weakening him.

Survival instincts kicked in, even though he wasn't sure he wanted to live. In one halfhearted attempt to save himself, Mencheres let all of his power free instead, letting it slam into Patra with a force that send her flying across the room and hitting the wall on the other side. Acting on instinct next, he raised an arm to grab the knife, only to feel it slide deeper into him. He froze, trying to slide it back out with only the force of his willpower. It started to move, his body shaking as his power started to fail him but he refused to give up. The knife had almost left his heart when Patra recovered and started to move toward him in a slow, but unstoppable pace, rage radiating off of her in strong waves. Mencheres realized he was too weak to continue freeing himself from the knife, and holding Patra back at the same time. She was too strong, and her anger only fueled her power further.

He couldn't move, and the only thing he had to defend himself with was his own body and the bloodied sheets all around him. Releasing his hold of Patra would make him able to remove the knife, but it would also send her catapulting back to him in a deadly force.

_What do you have to lose?_ His mind taunted him. _So what if you die? You don't have anything to live for anyway._

The moment he reined his power back, Patra's body came crashing onto his in a blur of speed. But Mencheres had been equally fast, and the knife Patra had planned to twist in his heart stabbed into her own heart instead. They both froze and for a brief panicked moment, Mencheres wanted to pull it out. Her blood poured out of her, mixing with his and for a moment Mencheres could only stare at the red liquid all around them.

His heart may be broken, in more ways than one, but it didn't mean that it wasn't aching for her too. He had to struggle to keep holding the knife still inside of her, knowing that if he surrendered to his impulses to pull it out to save her life, it would kill him instead.

"Damn you Mencheres," Patra hissed. "Damn you for this."

Tears spilled out of Mencheres's eyes as the last remaining piece of the shields crumbled around him. "Forgive me," before he could think of what he was about to do, he twisted the knife.

The action barely registered in his numb mind until he felt Patra sag against him. He held her as she started to wither, letting all of his pain and sorrow out with a hoarse inhuman cry that seemed to echo through the night.

XxxxX

**_TBC_**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter seven**

Mencheres didn't know for how long he had been lying there, paralyzed with shock and guilt of what he'd done, when he suddenly heard voices.

"Grandsire?" It was Bones's voice, something in the back of his mind noted, but he couldn't bring himself to care, let alone move.

Bones, with Cat and Spade came into the room in the next moment, all three stopping dead in their tracks as their eyes took in the scene. It was Bones who reacted first, taking the few steps that separated them in a blur of motions. "Grandsire are you alright?"

Mencheres felt a weight lift from him as Bones ripped the remains of Patra's body from his arms. "Look at all this blood," he heard Bones say. Then hands were on him, shaking him. "Grandsire? Snap out of it! Mencheres!"

"I am alright." He finally forced himself to say, even though everyone in the room must have known it was a lie.

"What the hell happened in here?" Cat asked.

"From the looks of it, I'd say we were proven right, and Mencheres killed Patra before she could kill him," Bones threw a quick look at the blood smeared bed, then back to Mencheres's still unmoving form. "Am I right?"

Mencheres didn't want to speak to him. He didn't want to speak to anyone. At the moment, all he wanted was to die. What was his life worth now? Maybe he had been wrong to act against Patra. Maybe he should have let the knife tear his own heart apart, instead of hers. Then at least he would have spared himself all this pain that was still coursing through him.

Bones interpreted the silence as a confirmation and went on, explaining. "Cat had Fabian spy on you; he came back and told us you were in immediate danger. I didn't know if we would arrive in time."

They'd had a ghost spying on him? If Mencheres hadn't felt so miserable, he would have been angry. "You should not have come," he said flatly, finally moving to sit up.

"Grandsire, I…"

"Go ahead," Mencheres said, looking at Bones with nothing but pain and defeat in his dark eyes. "Tell me _I told you so_."

Bones shook his head. "I don't have to." His voice was surprisingly soft. He sat down next to the Egyptian vampire, looking at him. Mencheres looked down, not wanting to meet his co-rulers gaze. Someone coming to stand before him made him look up again. Cat was holding out her wrist. "You need blood, I'm half human, mine will do. Go ahead."

"Kitten, you don't have to do that." Bones immediately said, but Cat just shot him a look that made it clear she didn't want him to argue about it.

Mencheres shook his head. "Thank you Cat, but it is not necessary."

"Drink," Cat sighed. "Before I change my mind." To emphasize her words, she grabbed one of her knives and sliced her skin opened. Mencheres sighed, but took her arm and sunk his fangs into her skin.

"I'm sorry you had to kill her. It would have torn me apart inside too if it had been Bones," Cat said when Mencheres was done feeding from her. He nodded, but couldn't bring himself to answer. God he must really look miserable, if even Cat pitied him.

Spade who had been silent the whole time spoke up. "I'm sorry mate, I truly am, But maybe it's time to go. We have been held up here long enough. Someone of Patra's people may come."

"That's right," Bones stood. "Grandsire, you coming?"

"No, I am not going with you."

"Why the hell not?" Cat snapped. "You prefer staying here with your dead withered wife?" the words left her mouth before she could stop them, and she sighed. "I'm sorry," she groaned.

Mencheres gave her a weary look, but didn't say anything. He got up on his feet, walked past them and stopped in the doorway to look at them. "Thank you all for trying to help," then he turned away. "There is nothing you can do for me now. Do not try to find me." Then he left them standing there and walked away, not knowing where he was heading, and not caring either.

XxxxX

Mencheres looked out at the landscape from his bedroom window. He had been in his house in Chicago for three months, and he hadn't spoken to anyone. Bones had tried to call several times, but Mencheres had simply ignored it.

He wanted to be alone. He knew some people said _everything heals in time, even broken hearts_. But being as old as Mencheres was, he knew that it was a lie. Time could not heal what Patra had done do him. Only physical wounds would heal, but with her treachery, she had wounded more than his body and heart. Damaged him far beyond any kind of repair, and it was all his fault for letting her.

Mencheres just couldn't see how he could ever get over something that hurt so much, just thinking of her and what could have been made him feel weak inside. Maybe if he lived for another thousands of years, something would change. But then again, he hadn't stopped loving her for over nine hundred years, so what was another millennia without her?

Mencheres knew the answer to that. And it was easy. Hope was what had made the difference. He had endured all those years alone with only the hope of a better future for them as motivation to go on living. When she had dangled that hope in front of him and offered him everything he'd secretly been dying for, he hadn't been able to resist her.

He had been played from the start, but how could he have known what Patra was planning? How could he have foreseen her actions when visions showed him a future filled with joy and the woman he loved by his side. The visions had never been wrong before, so why this time? Why, was the question he kept on asking himself a lot lately. But there were no answers.

Another question, which he couldn't quite let go of was why the vision he'd had of Patra was still going on repeat in his mind. He had seen the same thing more times than he could count during these last couple of months. Was it just his guilty mind taunting him, reminding him of what he could never have? Or was it something more to it? But Patra was dead, so there was no use to see her in his future anymore.

_Did you see her face?_ Bones's voice echoed in his mind. No, Mencheres hadn't seen her face, but he had assumed that it was Patra because he couldn't love anyone else. And that was true. Dead, or undead Patra was the only woman he could ever picture himself loving.

Mencheres turned away, having had enough of the empty landscape outside.

There was only one thing he could do to be free from this meaninglessness, once and for all. Mencheres had known for a while it would have to come to it eventually, but he hadn't thought death would feel so welcoming, so urgent.

XxxxX

**_Tbc_**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter eight**

The ghouls grinned at how helpless Mencheres was and the shouts and groans coming from him only made them cut deeper into his flesh. They were wrong of course. Mencheres was holding back, wanting the ghouls to kill him as an excuse for leaving this world. Thoughts drifted to Patra. Would she still hate him, even in their afterlife? Or did the visions hint of something different awaiting him once he was gone? Something he had wanted for his entire existence?

"Are you inexperienced, or is this simply the best you can do?" Mencheres wanted the ghouls to hurry up, to stop the torture and just get it over with. The ghoul growled in anger, digging the knife deep into Mencheres's thigh as a response to his taunt. Mencheres screamed, both for effect, and with true agony.

"Stop! Get away from him!"

Mencheres's head snapped up to stare at a human of all things, standing in the doorway of the warehouse with a gun pointed at the ghoul.

"I'll shoot," she warned again.

The ghoul moved away from Mencheres and the human girl gasped out loud at seeing him covered in blood and deep gaping wounds that hadn't had time to heal.

"Leave at once, you do not remember seeing any of this," his eyes flashed green at the woman, but she didn't obey as he'd thought she would.

The ghoul grinned as he moved in on the girl. Mencheres knew she was about to get killed. He shouldn't care, all he wanted was for the ghouls to finish him, the girl was just another human that meant nothing to him. But she _had_ tried to save him, he couldn't let her die because of that. Against his better judgment, he made a quick decision.

Mencheres's power blasted from him in strong waves, the ropes he had been tied with whipped around like snakes, the ghoul's heads torn off of their bodies with only a flicker of the vampire's mind.

Before the human could even begin to scream, Mencheres was in front of her, green blazing from his eyes as he tried mesmerizing her a second time. "You do not remember being here, you will go home and…"

He was cut off.

"But you were… you're bleeding, you have to…" she gasped as Mencheres grabbed her.

"You are immune to my powers." He stated to no one in particular.

"What?" She shook her head as if to clear it. Then she stared up at Mencheres's face. Her eyes met his and for a moment as Mencheres looked into her eyes it felt like the time had stopped. A trembling hand reached out to touch his chest where one of the cuts had been. Now all that remained was blood, and there was a lot of it.

"I don't understand," she whispered. "You were hurt and now…"

Mencheres took her hand to move it away from his body. He didn't like feeling it there, it brought back too many, too painful memories.

But as her hand came in contact with his, a feeling of clarity shot through him like a bolt of electricity and he knew it without a doubt. He didn't need to see the face in the visions he'd had repeatedly to know that this _human_ was the woman he had loved. The woman who had loved him.

As if burned Mencheres dropped her hand and almost shoved her away. The woman stumbled backward from the sudden movement but managed to regain her balance before she fell.

"It is not possible. It can not be her," Mencheres thought out loud, staring at girl as if seeing her for the first time.

"I'm…" she stared. "I uh… shouldn't have come, I'll leave and don't worry I won't say anything to anyone, I promise," she started to back away from him. Mencheres didn't blame her. With the way he was acting, the poor girl must be terrified.

"I can not let you go," he said before even giving himself time to think it through. But as he said it, he knew it was true. She had seen too much to be allowed to tell anyone about it. She would have to come with him, until he could find a way to make her forget everything about vampires and… him.

Mencheres heard the screeching sound of a car braking too hard followed by footsteps running in their direction. The police, he realized. Before the human could even begin to run, Mencheres had her gripped in his arms and right before the police entered the warehouse they were shooting through the morning sky like a bullet fired from a gun.

"Do not fear," Mencheres tried to soothe her while zipping through the air high above the rooftops. "Everything is going to be alright." For a brief moment he wondered if it was really her he tried to reassure, or himself. For once he didn't know what the future would bring, and it made him uncomfortable. Except from the strange vision of a human he now had gripped tightly in his arms, there had been nothing else.

He had been so close to leaving this world when his plans had been interrupted, and maybe he would get a second chance once he had deleted the human's memories.

But the question was, would he want that other chance if it came?

**_The End_**

**_A/N: So that's it! As I promised, a little bit of Kira in the end. Hope you've enjoyed this story, and thank you all for the revives!_**


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